Kirby Drabble Bin
by Crazy ASN
Summary: Just a junk box of shiz that I have no place for about Kirby. People free to steal/take/copy and paste or use inspire etc but give credit, OK? No real catergory because of variation.
1. Premonition

**Just a bunch of pointless drabble. Enjoy some of it. I'll explain what was on my mind at beginning or end of each drabble so you may understand its reasons.**

A young boy was walking alone in a field full of flowers, the soft petals tickling his small body as he walked by them. He seemed to have no destination in the almost endless place and soon he sat down on the ground to rest his sore legs from all the walking.

"Man," he sighed, lying down to gaze at the fluffy clouds overhead. "Daddy's gone now, and he's somewhere up there in space fighting demon beasts." A butterfly flitted past his brown eyed gaze. "I want to fight demons with Daddy too, but Mummy wants me to stay here..."

"Perhaps you should stay with your mother," a deep voice spoke from above him. "She probably wants you to stay because she's lonely, since your father has gone to war."

"Uh?" The boy sat up, and came face to face with a strange figure. They were about his height and rounded in body shape, with a blue cape wrapped around them. Two unblinking amber eyes stared at the child's from behind a silver mask with a dark, 'V'-shaped slit. There was an aquamarine mantle behind their head and two shoulder armours were protruding from their sides.

The child wasn't scared of this stranger who'd appeared before him, but he wasn't comfortable with him there. He edged back slightly.

The eyes followed him, but the stranger didn't do anything that seemed particularly threatening.

"Do not be afraid," the masked puffball reassured. "I am not here to harm you. I merely over heard your debate with yourself just then."

The boy looked about, fidgeting with his brown ponytail. There was seemingly nowhere for this unknown armoured person to have come from, not even a forest. If he'd been there all along, the boy would've at least noticed him approaching.

"Who are you?" the child asked, cocking his head.

The puffball looked up to the sky briefly, as if in thought.

"My name now is not important to you," he stated, looking back to the boy. "But what is your name?"

The child shook his head. "Mummy told me not to talk to strangers. I can't say my name."

The puffball seemed to sigh and shrug, his armour clanking a bit.

"Then it doesn't matter," the stranger stated plainly. "What is a boy your age doing out here all alone? Perhaps you should be playing with your friends, or your siblings?"

The boy looked away from the stranger, seemingly upset by this question. He answered any way.

"I have no friends to play with," he said sadly, touching and picking a nearby flower. "They all moved away because of the war. And I have no brothers and sisters either. I'm a single child."

"I see," the masked stranger nodded. "That's... sad to hear from you."

The boy lay down again, clutching the flower close to his chest. "Mummy's angry today. She's always been since Dad left. I don't want to bother her when she's angry, or she'll hit me with a broom and lock me in the cellar."

The masked stranger walked up to the boy's side, and looked upon him from there like some guardian watcher looming over him.

"Don't be scared," the puffball told the child. "I'm sure your mother is simply upset that your father is gone. She's probably a bit angry, and takes it out on you a bit, but I'm sure all she wants is for you to stay with her rather go and fight demons too. I myself have done so..."

"You've fought demons?" the boy asked, looking to the stranger above him. "Are you a soldier as well?"

"Yes, I suppose," the puffball replied. "I have fought demons. But you're too young. It's a tough world out there, and sometimes, the demons are just too strong."

"Is that bad?" the child asked.

"Don't be too ambitious now," the stranger advised him. "It will only land you into trouble. The war is bad out there, and things aren't always as clear and straight-forward as you think."

"What do you mean?" the boy queried, sitting up slowly. "Is it bad?"

The masked one looked the child in the eye with his golden ones, which were turned green with what he said next.

"Yamikage," the stranger said, emerald eyes flickering like a steady and hypnotising flame. "If you go to join the Galaxy Soldier Army, only darkness and despair will follow. Do not listen to those who try and persuade you. I am from a time far into the future and all I can say is you will not reach that time. I have lived alongside a life which will be yours if you join the soldiers in the war on Nightmare."

The startled child reeled when the stranger spoke his name like he'd known it all along. All of a sudden, the puffball seemed to be shimmering with energy, but he was still visible and his green-eyed gaze was still locked onto the young boy's.

"W-Wh-What h-happens if I j-join th-the army?" he stammered, trembling a bit.

The stranger's eye reverted to amber, flashing a deep and somewhat sorrowful blue before gold again.

"You will witness many deaths and destruction," he foretold. "Centuries of your life you will see only blood and hear screaming comrades. You will be captured by Nightmare's forces amongst the turmoil. Then the war will begin to fail for the GSA, for I am one of the only survivors of the future which may be true depending on your decision now. If you choose turn away from the war now, and stay with your mother, you and she will be safe but the war will still be Nightmare's victory. However, there is a high chance your father may come home safely and you will live the full of your life out."

Yamikage blinked. This was so confusing and frightening a future that the armoured puffball was telling him of. Was it true? Could he change it?

"But if Nightmare wins," Yamikage asked, shaking a bit. "Won't that still be bad?"

The stranger looked up into the clouds, eyes going green once more.

"A hero will be born," he said simply. "One named Kirby. He will defeat Nightmare for good and I know this because it has happened in my time. It was only a couple of decades to wait after the war and hopes were high for his birth to happen. Then the Universe will finally be in peace and harmony again."

Yamikage thought about this. He thought hard about it.

"I'm still training to be a ninja," he said sadly. "But if I can't fight, then I need to stop training..."

"Not necessarily," the stranger interjected. "It will be your choice. Just complete your training and do not join the war is what I think is best. I am not forcing you to take this path, though."

Yamikage paused again, his face taking on a look of worry and conflict.

"When will Kirby come, again?" he asked, looking up at the masked puffball.

"A few decades after the war ends," came the reply.

"Where will he be born?"

"A planet named Popstar," was all that he was answered with.

Yamikage looked down at the flower in his hand. Its petals were open and brightly hued in red and pink but the stalk was drooping near the top. He twirled it slightly in his thoughts.

"Popstar?" he repeated in question.

"Correct."

Yamikage fingered the soft, silky petals between his finger and thumb for a bit before sighing.

"OK. I'll stay with Mum and continue training, but I want to go to Popstar and see this Kirby," he decided finally.

Yet when he looked up, no one was there to hear his answer to the problem he'd been opposed with. Just as mysteriously as the stranger had appeared, he'd disappeared.

But as the boy looked about the empty field in bewilderment, he could've sworn he'd heard a faintest of whispers breathing in his ear.

"_Good choice..._"

**Basically, I see lots of things about Meta Knight and Yamikage once being friends before Yamikage suddenly turned bad. I thought up this thing about if Meta Knight found a way to go back in time somehow, and persuaded Yamikage not to go to the war and therefore not betraying to Nightmare. Then Yamikage decides on to move to Popstar later (again because of MK in a way) to wait for Kirby, and so Meta Knight will not be lonely anymore!**

**People can feel free to take idea from here for own stories or whatever. I don't really mind.**


	2. Evil

**This is something strange where Meta Knight is some sort of evil vampire count of somewhere. Fumu is the person he is courting and so he invites her to his castle or whatever it is. She goes down into the dungeons and sees something rather nasty...**

Fumu hid in the shadows of the dungeon corridor, behind a pillar as the Meta Knights clanked past in one solemn procession. None of them seemed to display much emotion in their actions, or said anything regarding where they were going to. Fumu didn't like this. They were like this when she first saw them, guarding the lonely battlements of the castle.

They went all the way to the end of the corridor before turning around the corner at the end of the hall. When she was sure they were no longer able to sense her, she followed carefully.

The dankness of the dungeon scared her, especially with the endless rows of cells and each corner showing even more barred enclosures than the last. It seemed so easy to get lost down here.

Tiptoeing on her bare feet, the golden skinned girl kept the knights in sight but a good distance away.

Then they stopped.

Fumu heard someone moaning and whimpering.

Axe Knight moved his hands to retrieve something from his belt whilst Mace Knight drew a pair of keys. The stocky soldier unlocked the door next to himself, so Fumu ducked around the corner to hide herself from view. Trident Knight stepped within the cell.

_A prisoner..? Why would Meta Knight keep a prisoner in his castle? He never mentioned it, _the young lady thought. _Surely no... But there is someone here..._

"Let go of me!" shouted a voice from Mace's cell. The owner sounded quite bad actually, voice dry and weakening as he struggled against the guard's grip. Javelin Knight drew out a spear and flew in, prodding the apparent prisoner out of hiding.

Fumu held down a gasp as a ragged man in a torn and grimy blue suit and tie was forced out. He was absolutely tied up with chains and Axe Knight found another link to attach to his neck collar. The skull-helmeted knight pulled on it roughly, flooring the prisoner hard on the ground with a yelp.

"That's great guys," a smooth, chuckling voice said.

"You are dismissed, Meta Knights," another, more similar one spoke straight after.

All of a sudden, two elegant armoured figures just appeared as if they'd melted out of the shadows and around the guards and prisoner. One was taller than the other and in turquoise armour, carrying a long helmet with a V-shaped slot and scores in the back under one arm. His face was pale and handsome; blue-green hair covering his right eye and left eye a dark red hue which glowed slightly. The other was almost exactly the same as his 'partner', but in green armour with red hair back in a ponytail and both eyes visible. He carried a mint green and carrot shaped helmet with a pink mouth guard under his arm. Both of them grinned at the same time to the person on the floor, revealing sharp little fangs in the corners of their mouths.

Hearing the orders the two new and mysterious figures gave them, the Meta Knights saluted and trudged off up the corridor as silently as before.

The turquoise figure smirked and kicked the grounded prisoner in the ribs, making him gasp and splutter. The other grabbed the latter's purple hair roughly and strongly, hoisting up the helpless prisoner.

"Well, we can't always get the top notch stuff these days, can we Sword?" the red head sighed, looking to his partner. "With the lord's lady here, they'll be down for longer, therefore not fresher, eh?"

Sword shrugged and laughed, shaking his head.

"Not at all," he replied to his partner's question. "But he needs it. Normal food makes him ill sometimes, especially caviar. Anyway, if we give it fast, he may let us have some too, right Blade?"

"Sure thing," Blade agreed. He regarded the prisoner with a scowl. "Come on then. Not keeping our lord waiting now, are we?"

The prisoner was trembling in his grasp, probably in too much pain and fear to speak back. Sword held onto his handcuffs and dragged him along like an inanimate object, whilst Blade held onto the back of the neck brace. They walked up the corridor.

Fumu shook off the uncontrollable shivers she'd developed since Sword and Blade's arrival.

_It's creepy here, especially with those two appearing from nowhere, _she trembled to herself. _What did they mean, 'let us have some too'? They work for Meta Knight, but..._

She cut off her disturbed thoughts and quickly decided to let that speck of curiosity lead her to follow them.

Sword and Blade dragged the prisoner deeper and deeper into the dungeon complex, corner after corner, hallway after another dark hallway. Fumu nearly thought she'd lost them but heard them talking and their armour clanking.

All at once, their heavy footsteps paused and a creaking was heard. A soft light announced that a door had been opened and the clanking resumed. Then, there was a slam as the door closed behind them.

Fumu ran up to the door, not even thinking of the wisdom of her actions. Whatever they were going to do to that poor prisoner, it didn't look to promising for the latter.

She tried the handle gently, so not to alarm the people within. It was locked.

Before her common sense could tell her to run away and never look or come back, she noticed the keyhole was wide and pretty open. Kneeling and placing an eye against it, she gazed into the room beyond.

It was a large but plain room, almost like any of the cells but with a candle-holder on the opposite wall which was the source of the light she'd seen earlier.

"Apologies, sir," Sword said, bowing gracefully. "This is our last one. He's terribly scrawny, though. Not at all fit for your taste..."

"That is fine, Sword. I do not mind," the unmistakable voice of Meta Knight replied. He was standing there, cape wrapped about his body, gold eyes fixed on the shivering prisoner before him.

"My lord must be hungry, seeing as he has had no proper food yet," Blade sighed. "Normal such foods are not at all that good for us..."

Meta Knight looked up at his servants, then back at the prisoners.

"You may leave, Sword and Blade," he told them. "Actually... Check on Lady Fumu, would you? I do not want to go over my time and wear myself out. I promised to go riding with her tomorrow. If I stay awake too long, I'll sleep all day and miss her."

Sword and Blade bowed. "Of course sir," they said in unison

Fumu was afraid they'd use the door she was by to exit, but thankfully, they turned away to somewhere else where she assumed was another exit. She heard no more of them.

Meta Knight circled the petrified prisoner whom Sword and Blade had brought to him, as if inspecting the small, pale and thin humanoid for something.

"Last on the list," the caped knight chuckled dryly, stopping near the prisoner's side. "I need to top up soon..." He looked the prisoner right in the eye, making the latter wilt slightly under his unblinking stare.

"I'm too hungry to let my pampered taste buds get the better of me tonight," Meta Knight sighed, letting his cape drop loose about his round form. "Had I not had my lady dining with me tonight, you'd be spared..."

One of Meta Knight's soft, gloved hands reached up to his face and undid a clasp on the fastener to his mask. Slowly, he removed it from his face, revealing large, pure white eyes rather than the golden ones Fumu saw him with. There wasn't much other detail to his face but a small mouth and rosy cheeks on his blue skin.

Despite the 'cute' appearance, the prisoner gasped and reeled, though his movement restricted by the heavy chains binding him.

Meta Knight cocked his head, white eyes unblinking still.

"Just relax," he reassured smoothly. "It'll make it a whole lot better for the both of us. If you struggle, it'll only be more painful..."

As he spoke, Meta Knight's eyes went blood red and narrowed and his mouth curled into a grin emphasised by two huge and sleek fangs. The prisoner yelped, but Meta Knight just grabbed him by the ragged shirt and stared into his eyes with his pure red ones.

A much more powerful version of what happened when Meta Knight's eyes were golden happened to the helpless being. The humanoid stiffened, eyes wide and reflecting the hypnotic redness of Meta Knight's.

"Good..." purred Meta Knight, pulling the prisoner in closer. "Now... Let me enjoy dinner in peace..."

With that, Meta Knight tilted his head and slipped his fangs into his victim's neck.

There was a moment of absolute silence, Meta Knight making a few swallowing sounds as he drank his fill of blood. The prisoner's head fell to one side, skin white as death, eyes blank, glazed and unseeing but not a sound escaping his slightly parted lips.

Meta Knight suddenly began to growl somewhat as his drinking supply began to run out, so he gave one last gulp and pulled away from his meal, leaving the blood-drained prisoner to fall limp to the ground.

The blue-skinned vampire harrumphed and licked the stray drops off his cheeks and hands, seemingly content with his meal now. He coughed down a slight belch in a casual way and sighed heavily.

"What to do..." he mused, eying over the lifeless form on the ground. "Could I do with another servant? Or I could treat myself with some... dessert?"

He paused and chuckled, nudging the dry body with his foot.

"I shouldn't indulge myself too much," Meta Knight laughed to himself. "I don't want to become... unfit for riding tomorrow. Humph... But I am hungry today." He licked his lips and hissed like a snake.

"Staff shortage isn't a bother," the knight told himself. "There's always room for food in one's life."

With another spine-chillingly evil laugh, Meta Knight lunged forth for the dry corpse, mouth wide and fangs ripping the flesh on the first contact.

And Fumu screamed, pulling away from the keyhole.

Meta Knight continued savaging up the rest of his meal as Fumu fell back onto the floor, world darkening at the edges as her consciousness slipped from her traumatised mind.

Before she blacked out completely, she saw two dark figures standing over her, red eyes glowing softly.

***

The morning was crisp and bright like a new page in a book. The birds were twittering and the countryside beneath the castle was green and fertile, like from a fairytale.

Fumu's emerald eyes opened slowly as she found herself staring up at a crimson velvet bed-curtain. She felt warm and soft linen sheets around her body and a fluffy mattress beneath her.

_Wh...Where am I?_

She tried to sit up, but she hadn't the strength. The events of the night before she passed out trickled into her mind like water draining from a sink. The young lady began to shake.

"My lady," a smooth, silky voice soothed. "Do not be afraid." Meta Knight approached her slowly from his place ear the window.

Fumu seized up and whimpered at the sight of the golden eyed count. The image of the red eyed vampire of his alter-ego was flickering in her mind as he came nearer to the bed.

"Fumu," Meta Knight repeated softly. "Fumu, do not be afraid. I do not want to harm you. My servants found you in the dungeon out cold and brought you here. Please, my lady, I will explain myself."

But Fumu shook her head vigorously and clutched the sheets, edging back as much as her weak body could.

"No!" she whimpered. "Stay away from me you beast! I saw what you did to that poor man! You ate him! You tore him up like-like a..!!" She broke into a sob and trembled.

Meta Knight stopped moving by her bedside. He slowly reached a soft, gloved hand to Fumu's and gripped the young lady's pale golden fingers with gentleness.

"Fumu, you have to understand me," he whispered, stroking her hair with his other hand. "I'm a vampire and I have been from the day I took my first breath. I grew up in darkness till I inherited this land from my family. But even if I can sleep by night and walk in the sunlight, I still have to feed."

Fumu shivered. With his mask back on, she just couldn't bring herself to trust those beautiful golden eyes anymore. Even if they drew her to him, she couldn't push the image of the prisoner being drained of blood by the demon behind them.

"I was afraid to be bold enough to live like a normal person," Meta Knight continued. "I was afraid of being different, or hurting people. I've tried my best to limit myself rather than go roguish like my brothers did." Meta Knight cupped Fumu's hand in both of his own. "I cannot change my need for blood, but I swear upon my life, Fumu, that I will not harm you in any way. You are the only person in this world who I will not feed from because I love you."

Tears forced themselves from Fumu's eyes and she let them fall. She couldn't find words to speak with, but the gentleness of the knight was winning her over. How could such a good intention come from a vampire?

"...Can.. I trust you?" she whispered, looking up at Meta Knight. "Can you promise me that you will never...?"

Meta Knight leant forth.

"I can," he breathed in her ear. "I love you Fumu, for you are dear to me as anything. That kindness you showed me at the ball melted that barrier which separated me from your society. You have showed me a new life above this shadowy one. I will never lay a fang on you."

Fumu thought back to the ball where Meta Knight had met her on the balcony. The conversation they had. His invitation to her.

Fumu let out a mournful sob and threw her arms around Meta Knight.


	3. Ghost

He wandered alone along the dark corridors of the castle.

Not even a lone Waddle Dee on its way to the dormitory felt his presence as he passed it. The creature tottered on, oblivious to his presence.

What was left of Holy Nightmare's salesman sort of paused and exhaled deeply in a weary kind of sadness. He carried on walking, not knowing what to do, not that he knew of doing anything from the start.

Reduced to a silent, invisible and formless ghost, all he could do now was walk.

His fingers passed through objects and people when he tried to touch them, and his voice was but a faint breeze to the ear. He could see himself as a faded version of what he once was, but nothing was there to those who looked in his direction. They saw right through him.

For Customer Service, this half life was a lonely feeling; an unwanted feeling of emptiness and being forgotten and unheard. He'd never felt unheard before. It made him feel like a hollow chasm was forming inside him and he was falling into it in turn. It was a feeling he didn't want.

So here he was, somewhere between life and death, somewhere beyond the living being's vision watching his murderers carry on with their lives.

He often wondered if this was a punishment in the form of some kind of torture, condemning him to a half-life of neglect for his previous one of sin and evil. Or was it some sort of pity-invoked 'second chance' of some sort. Whichever it was, he walked alone, watching the ones who killed him carry on with life like he'd never existed at all.

He watched children running around outside, playing and laughing in blissfulness, the events of the raid which he'd perished in forgotten to them. They would grow up and forget it all and live full lives while he stood there, never changing.

He watched some knights as they looked over the children, nodding to them. The warriors remembered the raid well and they would always. They'd have their pride and glory whilst he stood there, unknown to all.

No matter how hard he tried, his translucent fingers could never grasp anything to allow him to do something to announce his presence. He had to resent to walking through doors or walls which came in his way. He didn't like the feeling of doing so, because it made him feel like he was losing himself as a normal, living thing with a shape and matter. Even the residents of the castle walked right into him, sending chills up his spine as they carried on through, having not felt a thing.

Why was he here? Here, in Dreamland? A land foreign to him and full of enemies? Why was he now damned to wander this castle for what seemed like the rest of eternity?

He could've just died and disappeared forever, but no. The Holy Nightmare Fort was somewhere up there in space, having been blasted into a million pieces. His body had probably shared the same fate too.

Now all that was left of him was an essence, a faint, sickly paleness with his mind still intact.

He hated it. He could remember everything. He could remember the flames rising about him, their heat unbearable and still rising as he began to burn up. Falling rubble pinned him down and crushed his already weakened body. Distant explosions rang in his ears till he was deafened. Smoke forced its way into his lungs till he could no longer breathe, and his vision failed him. All that time, he heard screaming.

His own pitiful voice, screaming.

Screaming for help.

Screaming for an end.

An end to his suffering.

Revisiting those, sharp, painful memories made Customer Service shiver. He moved along in the darkness, not knowing where to go now.

Never knowing why.

**No idea why this came. A picture of Customer Service just standing there, with everyone else around but not appearing to know he's there just came into my head, so I drank some Diet Coke and wrote away.**

**Perhaps he'd been possessed by Bokyaku, then something wonderfully strange turned him into ghost-like person?**


	4. Flying

It was simply… wonderful.

He was flying high over the world, faster up, then down, up and down. He felt like he was wearing wings made of the wind itself to move around the planet.

Jecra circled Hotbeat without feeling like he was inside a volcano once. The cool breeze whistled in his pointed ears and made his golden hair flow with it.

Getting bored quite quickly, he looked up and rose higher, above the atmosphere and into space itself. He needed not a ship, for he could drift amongst these glowing lanterns known as stars.

As he passed a constellation, he held out a gloved hand to feel every passing particle from the stars and paused to watch a solar flare for a moment before setting eyes on another planet named Half-Moon.

It was covered in dark clouds, making it hard to navigate around the darn place but he got in alright with a less-than-graceful corkscrew into the atmosphere. He plummeted (intentionally) to ground level and began to explore. The ex-Galaxy Soldier drifted around the place, observing the environment about him and flying through things.

As fun as it was, he suddenly gazed back up to the skies and shot upwards towards space once more. He remembered he had to do something now.

Flying as fast as he could possibly go, Jecra made for a small cluster of stars in the centre of a galaxy far away. But thanks to his new found flight, he made it there in less than half a minute and dove for his star-shaped target named Popstar.

The golden glimmer of the star engulfed him in a spectacular yellow warmth which blinded him as he entered the world of fertile bliss in which his friend lived in.

He hovered as the wind itself over a field of fresh, tickly looking grass. He heard shouts and cheers as some children played football with each other. He didn't have time to stop now, but he smiled under his mask as he rushed over them.

The great castle to which he was heading for came into view over the hills, so he continued on with a determined air of some sort and zipped though the town main street. The Cappies who inhabited the village were milling about as usual, not noticing the lightning fast (an invisible) spectre go past. Not even a wind passed to tell them Jecra had gone by.

The great gate of the castle was slowly shutting and the draw bridge was coming in. It didn't matter whether he got through whilst it was still open; he could still go through it.

Whizzing in past a group of bored Waddle Dees, Jecra flew up the main staircase of the palace, his goal attracting him like an iron filing to a magnet.

The corridors wound about, confusing to those unfamiliar with the place or slow in speed, but a piece of cake for Galaxy Soldier. He found his destination in a wooden door tucked away in the eastern part of Castle Dedede. He went through it.

Slowing down finally, Jecra drifted into the half-Japanese styled room. He smiled as he looked around at everything from the weapons over the fireplace to the counter with a little candy jar on it.

"How very like you, Meta Knight," he chuckled.

"Oh, Jecra!" someone called. "Are you here too?"

The blond man whipped around to see a female warrior with lavender skin and hair doing just the same as him. Garlude smiled and approached him.

"Came to visit Metty, didn't you?" Garlude grinned, hugging her buddy as a greeting. "Same here! He's out at the moment, but I thought about hanging around…"

Jecra laughed softly after they stopped embracing.

"Being dead ain't gonna stop us from being friends, with the living or not," the male warrior mused. He patted Garlude on the back and resumed to exploring the apartment.

"His knaves are pretty nice guys," Garlude commented. "Of course we haven't talked but dang it! They'd throw themselves in the line of fire from a full armed army for our Meta Knight. Well, they're younger than him, so it's almost like they're his sons or something!"

Jecra rolled his eyes and smirked. "We really sound like we're treating Meta Knight like a son ourselves, Garlude. Honestly, he's older than us by a good century or two!"

Garlude giggled and sighed, perching herself on the wooden decking opposite the kitchen unit of the knights. Jecra joined her too, and decided to remove his mask to unwind for a bit.

"He is," Garlude smiled, fiddling with her ponytail idly. "I see him often. He's sometimes a bit depressed about it. He flicks through an old photo album full of us from time to time. You know, all of us 'the family'."

Jecra grinned cheekily and dropped it. "Poor guy. But at least we can try to make him feel more comfortable. Just a bit, even… It's the thoughts that count."

They were distracted by a latch clinking and the creaky old door to the house opening. Meta Knight entered quietly, cape wrapped around his round body as usual. Today, he seemed to sigh with each step, emphasised by the heavy sounding clanks of his armour. As he passed the invisible duo, though, he seemed to lighten a bit, and slowed his pace to a halt short of the window in the living area. He seemed to take a deep breath and raise his head/body a fraction before turning to his bedroom to rest.

"Aah Metty," Jecra sighed. "We always know what's going on under your mask…"


	5. Wings?

**Say Meta Knight did have wings in the anime and that was his big secret of life. And so, they were found out and now a Fumeta has come to slap you in the face °**

Meta Knight stood on the stony railing of a balcony that night to stargaze, as he usually did. Moonbeams reflected delicately off his metallic-silver mask and his unblinking gaze watched the slow and gradual movement of the stars in the night sky. A soft breeze sent some thin clouds sailing over the moon and the end of the knight's cape fluttering. He pulled it around himself, as he always did, to try and make himself feel a little warmer.

Yet whatever he could do, nothing seemed to feel the same as he always did anymore. The masked puffball sighed heavily and sadly, dropping his gaze to the still courtyard below him. A few Waddle Dees were patrolling the perimeters of the inner garden, but they were silent too.

All of a sudden, he heard a slight creak and soft feet steeping out into the cold balcony. "Huh? Sir Meta Knight?"

Twisting around slightly, Meta Knight saw it was Fumu, alone in her nightdress. Her hair was still tied up in her normal style, perhaps signifying that she was only just getting ready to go to bed when she decided to come out. Looking back to the sky, the knight did his best to cover up his gloominess when he spoke up in reply to the girl. "Shouldn't you be in bed now, Fumu? It's probably already past your bedtime now."

Fumu was, naturally, ready to give an answer to this. She stepped a bit closer, carefully sliding the balcony door shut behind herself.

"I was going to bed," she replied simply. "But just as I was brushing my teeth, I saw you here on our balcony through the window. I was wondering why you're out here, Sir Meta Knight. You usually stargaze up in your balcony, don't you?"

_I would, normally, Fumu, _the knight thought wearily, still looking to the star-filled heavens. _It's not normal now. Not anymore._

"I'm giving Sword and Blade… a little time to themselves," Meta Knight responded whilst trying to sound as honest as he could. "They're incredibly tired after all, and they need it."

Fumu cocked her head but remained where she was. It was always so hard to tell what Meta Knight was thinking or feeling with that mask on his face and low, almost expressionless voice. But all of a sudden, Fumu felt she knew what was going on inside the knight's mind.

"Are you worried about...? You know… What happened today?" the golden-skinned girl asked softly. "Dedede had it all over the news, everyone was talking about it and all that hullabaloo… Is that it? Are they wondering about you after seeing your wings? Everybody else is, even Curio-san."

The masked knight sort of deflated at hearing this being brought up, but didn't nod or shake his head. He simply turned around to glance at the girl and nimbly jumped to the balcony floor. He stood for a few seconds, and slowly eased to seat himself on the hard stone. Fumu paused, and walked over to join him at his side.

"And you, Fumu?" the blue masked puffball asked, a clear hint of sadness in his tone. "Are you wondering about my wings too? Did you talk about it with your family over dinner tonight?"

The girl sat there, looking a bit surprised at this out-of-character question for a moment. She then turned her head away and gave a meek nod. The knight beside her acknowledged this, and hung his head in some degree shame, making Fumu look at him again.

"Sir Meta Knight? Are you feeling… degraded, because we found out?" she asked softly, pity sheening her green eyes for a moment.

There was no reply, but Fumu took from the air that it would've been a 'yes'. She bit her lip and moved her hand slightly, as if ready to reach out to comfort the masked puffball.

"Sir Meta Knight, don't be upset," she said, trying to sound as comforting as she could. "I know it must feel terrible to know that people are whispering things behind your back about you, but it's OK, isn't it? Your wings don't matter to me, I can say that from my heart. I think a fair deal of Cappies will take it the same way and soon everyone will stop talking about it like it's a big deal. You and I both know Dedede, who fusses things over until he gets bored and moves on. It'll only be a matter of days-"

"And would everything be the same again?" Meta Knight cut in, moving his topaz gaze to the girl. "Would people then see me as the same person as before, a knight and veteran soldier trying to defend this star for their sake? Dedede broadcasted it in broad daylight. He said, out to every resident of his kingdom, that I have wings which I have hidden for years on end. It makes them doubt my identity, Fumu. I heard some farmers and fishermen whispering about me being a demon beast in disguise, trying to fool them."

Fumu gasped upon hearing this. "Sir Meta Knight! How could you let that past you? You are most certainly not a demon beast! Not to me you aren't! You help Kirby when he fights, teach him how to understand fighting demons! You've even helped me learn self-defence against those bully demons. And they know you've worked to save Popstar before! How could they forget that?"

Meta Knight took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, looking away from the girl again. Her strong spirit and will displaying her trust in him was remarkable and admirable, but he shook his head. "Fumu, do you not wonder why I hid them under this cape for that long?" He shrugged his cloak slightly, loosening its hold around his form but not letting go.

The girl hesitated, mouth dropping open slightly for a while. She closed her mouth, thought about what to answer and settled with a slow shake of her head. "No. I don't. Does it matter?"

"Does it not make you suspicious that an individual who told people they were a Star Warrior in a great war against the Emperor of Darkness himself wouldn't tell of a pair of wings they've never used before your eyes?" Meta Knight responded, sagging a bit. "I hid them for a reason, Fumu. I didn't want anyone thinking I was not what I claimed to be. No one knew, and I didn't want them to. I didn't even tell Knuckle Joe's Father, or Silica's mother, Garlude. I was embarrassed_. Ashamed_. Now, seeing it publicized for all to hear and see on a video and in pictures… It hurts me, Fumu."

The Popstarian girl looked totally shocked at this rare outpour of emotion, from a knight much older than herself who she hardly saw even express emotion. She was stone still, not knowing if speaking or silence would help the situation.

Meta Knight's eyes went dimmer, as if they were tuning to his emotions. It hurt just to say that to someone who'd listen, but now he was wondering if it was the right thing to do as Fumu remained silent for another minute. He couldn't just get up and walk away now, like he usually would have.

"…Sir Meta Knight," the girl breathed finally. Gingerly, she reached out and touched the blue knight's shoulder in some sort of action to try and comfort him. Tears were gracing her eyes as she did so. "Sir Meta Knight… There's no need to feel like that about yourself. You aren't a bad person, and just because you have wings, it doesn't mean that makes you one. It doesn't matter what people think about them, better or worse about you. Everyone knows you're truly a caring and honest person…"

"And what if you think I was only pretending to be?" Meta Knight replied, sounding hurt. He flinched away from Fumu's gentle hand, but the girl took him by the wrist with both hands immediately.

"I don't, and that would be enough for me if I were you," she replied boldly, squeezing his soft, gloved hand in her own bare ones. The wind blew about them, but Fumu kept her hold on the knight until he finally summoned the courage to look at her again. He felt so _small _all of a sudden, compared to this girl. Sir Meta Knight, the pride of the Galaxy Soldier Army and sole survivor of a long and painful war couldn't face his fear and shame of having his secret wings discovered and yet a girl who was barely a teenager yet was being braver than him right now.

"Sir Meta Knight, there's no reason for me or anyone in Pupupuland to hate or shun you for who you are," Fumu whispered, green eyes so much more intense compared the masked puffball's now. "What and who a person is to themselves and everybody can never change. Only people's opinions do. You are still the same to me, wings or no wings, Sir Meta Knight. You are the strong, wise and honourable Star Warrior who has protected everyone from Kirby, Bun and I to Sword and Blade to even Dedede, out of your own good will. Kirby looks up to you. Bun looks up to you. _I _look up to you, for who you are."

The knight fell silent to her words and continued looking into her bright emerald eyes, as she to his own golden ones. Slowly, she began to withdraw her hands from over his and averted her gaze slightly, but Meta Knight turned and brought his other hand to cup both of hers in the same fashion she'd just done. The girl looked back up, slightly startled by the action.

"Fumu…" the knight murmured, eyes flashing a deep blue for a second and shining over. "You are wise beyond your years, did you know that? But compared to you, I'm nothing but an old fool who can't truly stand up to his fears, despite what I say. I only want people to think of me the way I tell them to."

"Do you think Sword and Blade are only following you because you were lying?" the girl questioned again. "Because you're not honourable or brave or just, as you are? No! They told us why. It's because first-hand, they witnessed you truly being a hero to them, risking your life for theirs when the Chilidog attacked them. If you weren't truly like that, you wouldn't have done that and you know it. And you're not foolish, Sir Meta Knight. I guess it's pretty intimidating having something as big as your wings found out after all that time. It's kind of like a tower of bricks if you think about it. The more time you hide something for, the taller the tower gets and when it's found out, the tower falls and makes a big mess. If you'd have said earlier, when the tower was 'smaller', it wouldn't have been a big deal. I'm not angry or anything that you hid it though. Like I said, it doesn't mean anything to me. In fact, I think your wings are lovely. It almost makes you seem like an angel, if you see what I mean…" The girl blushed slightly as she spoke those last words.

Hearing this made a small sense of joy and elation fill Meta Knight: allowing him to know that someone truly did see him as someone worth looking at. He shifted to look head-on at Fumu, looking her right in the eye whilst still holding her hands. The girl smiled softly back.

"Thank you, Fumu," the blue knight said, almost silently. "Thank you for your kindness."

Fumu nodded slightly. "You're welcome, Sir Meta Knight." As she said that, the girl shivered slightly due to the current temperature about. The wind blew her hair around, as well as Meta Knight's cape.

Then the knight did something truly unexpected. He pulled Fumu's freezing hands closer, still cupping them in his warmer ones and brought the girl in too. Before she could even look surprised, the golden-skinned girl felt his cape shift and brush against her arm as he extended a delicate, midnight blue wing to wrap around her body. It was soft and silky, unlike its leathery appearance from a distance and she instantly felt a little warmer. Looking to Meta Knight thankfully, Fumu found herself looking into his wonderful topaz eyes which were as bright and confident as they had ever been. Meta Knight gave a small, slightly embarrassed chuckle and looked up to the starry sky above them.

"It's incredibly cold out here," the knight explained. "I thought you needed some warmth."

**Damn you OOC moments! *shaking fist at own work***


	6. Untitled Ha!

**I'm sorry those who subscribe to read my Meta Knight-y things in this drabble stuffs, but Customer Service is a character I can't miss. Perhaps the brain of mine shall spew up some more Metty later :/**

**Also, poetry is bad from me so think of it as loads of lines and half-finished sentence. **

What do you think he was thinkingwhen he realised he was doomed?

Perhaps he was scared, too terrified to think straight when he left the first time.

Perhaps he thought they'd take him like a prisoner, a trophy for their achievement.

Perhaps he thought they'd kill him if he ever dared step on their precious planet.

After all, he was demon and they had Star Warriors.

Either way, it was probably too late when he turned back; the bombs detonated.

What do you think he was thinking when his only home started to be destroyed?

The Fortress being ripped apart by the hands of flames and explosion.

Perhaps he wanted to join his creator to be loyal to the end.

Perhaps he stopped and gave up right there, full of despair.

Perhaps he ran on, half-knowing it was futile to escape.

It was either the fire, the smoke, or the cold vacuum of space.

Whichever it was, it ended his life.

What do you think he was thinking towards them,

The ones who'd brought him this terrible way to perish?

Perhaps it was bitterness, a natural thing to pass through a demon's mind.

Perhaps it was remorse for the sins he'd committed against them,

Perhaps it was nothing, just his pure fear as the heat rose.

Countless demons, countless lies- countless orders from his master.

Whatever he felt, it was the last thing he'd ever feel.

Maybe he was thinking about what _they _were thinking.

Perhaps they were regretful for leaving a person behind, losing sleep over the loss of him.

Perhaps they were celebrating like he was nothing, cheering at the thought that he was no more.

Perhaps they'd just forgotten about him, and he was lost in their memories,

A mere dark spot in their thoughts which they ignored as they cheered for their heroes.

Whatever it was, they were the last people to see him alive.

What do _you_ think, about where he 'went' afterwards?

Perhaps you believe in a place called Heaven and a place called Hell,

Perhaps you believe in ghosts and restless spirits haunting places, or reincarnation,

Perhaps you believe in the End, a point where life stops and is swallowed by eternal dark.

Do you think he made it somewhere?

What you believe, you may: Maybe he believed it too.

Sure, he was aware Death was over his shoulder waiting to take him,

Everyone is when It comes.

But what did he do, think, feel in his final moments in the Universe as Death's hand closed in?

Who knows?

Maybe he cried.


End file.
